The Greenhouse - The One Week Project

 I have wanted a greenhouse for years. With last years difficulty with finding plant starts after a late freeze, and pandemic spending adding more first time gardeners to the shops, this seemed like the perfect year to actually put one up. I'd been mulling it in earnest for over a month, do I build one from scratch or purchase a kit?

I started looking at sourcing materials to build one. The price of lumber this Spring was insane. The cost of that alone was prohibitive. Then I'd have to source all the old windows, which for once, were completely missing on craigslist. I'd have to go with a kit.

The number and type of kits to choose from is ridiculous. I was loosing time quickly as it was the end of March and our date for planting is May 15th to June 1st, depending on the crop. Tick, tick, tick.

Once I settled on the size, and type, I needed to FIND one. It seemed the whole world was trying to go self-sustainable. Everything I found was back-ordered.

I finally found one locally at Harbor Freight. It didn't have the best reviews, but reading across the internet and what the problems were, I could easily mitigate them, I hoped.

I ordered this one and picked it up the next day.

I decided to build a real deck flooring for it, as no where on this property was level, it needed a strong base to attach to, and if it DID fail, I could use the good base as an investment to build a wood frame hot house.

I stopped by the lumber yard on the way home and got to work immediately. This was the day after the great hen house massacre, so the work and activity gave me an outlet for my guilt and frustration. The holes were dug and awaiting concrete, which had been picked up with the lumber. Under supervision of the remaining hens, I set the posts in concrete and called it a day. 

The next day was framing it out, trimming the posts, and building the decking. In true me form, it measured square, but sure wasn't. It's a trapezoid. But I did center all the deck boards and had Doc rip a couple of my boards to finish the two ends.

Day 4 found me sealing the gaps in the decking to stop airflow up through the floor, and then painting the whole thing 'go-away green'.

Day 5 was a second coat of paint.

Day 6 was a Saturday and the weather was going to be dry, rain free, and gorgeous. Doc agreed to help me put the whole thing up, which was a good thing, as I didn't think I had the brains left to do it alone. We sorted the parts out on the lawn and set to work.  It wasn't too horrible but did take the entire day. The instructions were not the best, but at least the parts were well marked. Had I followed the instructions from the start I would have found out an important thing, we were missing a critical piece. I had the panels up and clipped in place, but we were missing the upper frame of the door slide. Strong storms were coming in that night, and without that door assembled and shut tightly the open end of the greenhouse would blow out the whole building.

I called Harbor Freight to see if they would pop open another box to get my missing piece for me. They said they would gladly, if they HAD another one. NO! I called three other HF stores, the third one, an hour and 20 minutes away did and would open a box for me. I dropped everything, and left Doc on his own for lunch, and to assemble all the windows and the door while I was gone. 

I was there and back in 3 hours. 

Doc finished assembling the door frame and installed the door and upper vents, while I secured panels further with steel paneling screws. We put the last screw in and closed the door as the last of the daylight faded. The storms came in the early hours of the morning. The winds howled to 63 mph. I dreamt of going out in the morning to blown out panels all over. Nope. There she stood glistening in the sunshine.

Day 7 was Sunday. I let Doc get back to work on his grading as the semester was wrapping up. I spent the morning sketching out the shelving and storage for the greenhouse, and figured out what I needed to accomplish them. Then it was back to the lumber yard, and back with 2x4s that cost me an arm and a leg. 

I spent the afternoon painting them so they would dry and cure over night for cutting and assembly the next day.

Day 8 - Monday again. I walked the dog and then left her napping on the sofa. 
I let the hens out, opened the workshop high-bay door, cranked up the radio and set to work. 

I had the design all worked out on scrap paper, but double checked my measurements on the floor of the greenhouse, as there was no room for error, no second trips to the lumberyard without painting involved, and no scrap 2x4s in the shop to be had. While they were an easy design, I took my time in building the pair of them, and they took up most of my day.  I was able to install one of them alone with the help of furniture sliders. The second one, however, while the same weight and size as the first, couldn't be managed alone as the space in the greenhouse was now limited due the the first being installed. Someone had to balance the second while another crawled through and around in order to wiggle it from the open walk way into its final position. 

They look great, hold an incredible amount of flats, and weight, and make the most of the space. Spoiler Alert Photo from later in the season.  At one point we had over 1000 seedlings, and held a couple of plant sales locally. 

The Insanity of Spring and Summer Ruled the Roost

 The fact that it is September in less than 48 hours blows my mind. While I'm ready for cooler weather, I am not ready to give quarter to shorter days and giving over to the cold and wind I know is coming. I honestly do not know where the time went. One second we were babying the tender sprouts in the seeding shed, and preparing to move them to the new greenhouse, And then it was a race to get things in the ground and sold before the heat destroyed all my efforts. Everything I touched seemed to be up against a deadline. 

Before we knew it it was college graduation time, planting time, shearing, birthdays, the 4th of July, farmer's markets, another birthday, surgery for the dog, the start of University, harvest, canning, and the State Fair. 

Along the way there was fun, stress, anxiety, storms, milestones,and of course, some funny stories and some great photos.  To be honest, I thought I had written two posts that don't seem to be here. I don't know where they are, but they aren't here, which is ridiculously odd.  One was about building our new greenhouse, and the modifications I made and its review.  The other was about heartache in the hen house.  I distinctly remember writing them, so I'll have to see if I can find them. So I'll spend the next couple of days catching you up.

March 2021

March is the Month we snap out of Winter, or at least try to. After the Skunk situation, we had moved past the iffy days of the month, and were moving headlong into Spring.  Enough warm air came in to keep the intense moisture we began to receive as rain, instead of snow.  Rains came inches at a time and a stream seemed to run through the pasture on a regular basis as it worked its way down hill to the lake.

Fortunately, wet alpaca toenails are the easiest to cut. Unfortunately, this means you have to snuggle with a wet alpaca. Now I love the boys, but oh my, do they stink when they're wet. Imagine 200 pounds of hairy, stale, wet fritos. or popcorn. Ya.

Even soaking wet they're still cute.  We did let them dry out before we caught them, slapped their harnesses on them and lined them up for pedicure day.  Merriweather, sat happily atop the hay and supervised.  

There was a great deal of annoyance with the day we picked.  It has to be warm enough not to deal with bulky clothing. It has to be cool enough that you don't get hot and frustrated, while working. It needs to be dry (see above), but not too dry or the nails are hard to cut.  Add to this that my newest clippers weren't up to par, but the old pair had lost their edge. PLUS none of the boys wanted a pedicure.  Heathens.

Stormy refusing to get up and 
walk to the chute. He tucks his 
feet under, locks up, and goes boneless.

After a great deal of pushing, prodding, and pleading all their nails were trimmed and fleece was checked to see how it was progressing for shearing in May.

With the incredibly wet weather I entertained myself by cooking, planning the garden and planting successions, weaving, and building.

Whole Wheat Braided Loaf

Cinnamon Roll Twists

The Seeding Shed

Mini Woven Cording For A Set of 19th Century Stays

(The following contains the passing of livestock, for those of you that are sensitive.)

The last day of March was miserable.

I had found a small mouse hole in the corner of the run that had by-passed the security mesh. I decided to seal it with concrete the following day when I planned to set some posts for the new greenhouse. Little did I know that that would be a fatal delay.

Doc went to work, I and I went out just after dawn to let the feed the hens. It was terribly quiet, too quiet.  As I approached the chicken run, I noticed the fresh areas of digging by the door, then as I turned my head, I notice the area of the mouse hole had been dug out and slightly enlarged.

The actual hole is only 
1.5 inches in diameter.

Then I saw the first little body, then another, and another. I feverishly opened all the latches on the door to the aftermath of a massacre.  Feathered body after body lay around the run. I let out a wail of shock and sorrow that split the dead calm of morning. 

I spied the quiet survivors hiding in the coop, high up in the rafters. I raced around to the door to the coop and flung open the door, keeping my eye out for the killer who could still be lurking, threatening in the coop. More bodies littered the floor. 

Sadness on Many Levels

My mind pushed sorrow out of the way, and focused on rage, and as fast as that came it went working in overdrive looking over the survivors for a quick roll call. Merriweather, where was Merriweather? There she sat, high on a perch, behind the rooster.  I grabbed her and pet her while I continued to gather myself and assess the carnage. The alpacas the whole time, standing on the other side of the fence in vigil, had witnessed the entire event, and now me, lining up the dead near the coop. They knew something was wrong and just stood there wondering why their little friends were just lying in the grass. 
14 of my 24 birds gone. A single bite to the back of the head. Faster than they could flee the sneaky beast. The chicken keepers most deadly, ferocious killer, a mink.

I knew he'd be back that night to collect his work. We set out a trap, and just as the sun set, he was mine.  He was huge. 

This left a huge hole in our flock, which I of course swore I wouldn't fill, until I did.